


Red Dossiers

by akire_yta



Series: prompt ficlets [276]
Category: The Librarians (TV 2014)
Genre: Gen, MI6 Agents
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-30
Updated: 2016-06-30
Packaged: 2018-07-19 07:53:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 409
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7352464
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/akire_yta/pseuds/akire_yta
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>sparrowsverse asked for: The Librarians. Ezekiel gets picked up MI6 while on a librarian job.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Red Dossiers

“Mr Jones, you’re a hard man to find.”

Ezekiel Jones froze. He knew that voice.  And he knew what hearing it meant.  It meant he was surrounded, all obvious exits cut off, all unobvious exits booby trapped.  It meant snipers on all the surrounding buildings, and probably satellite tracking.

It meant he was _fucked_.

Ezekiel turned slowly, keeping his hands visible.  “Mr Smith,” he greeted the man in the shadows, easy smile on his face.  He’d played this game for  years; the role came back too easily for comfort.  “I would have sent a Christmas card, but knowing you,  you’d probably destroy it in a controlled detonation rather than open it, so…” he shrugged, telegraphing every movement.

There was no reaction.  Ezekiel had only ever once gotten a rise out of Mr Smith, on the day Ezekiel had pulled off his greatest heist and stolen his life back.

Perhaps it wasn’t the clean getaway he had hoped for after all.

A dossier file, red as blood, is dropped onto the small hall table between them.  “We have a retrieval.”

Ezekiel let the smile drop.  “I don’t work for you any more, mate.”

There’s a hint of a smile, small and sardonic.  “You are a loyal subject of the crown, are you not?  Don’t mistake your little, ah, _leave of absence_  for anything other than what it is.  I expect delivery within 48 hours.”

Mr Smith knew Ezekiel’s weakness.  Too curious, Ezekiel snatched up the dossier.  A target, a USB drive, a narrow window of opportunity.

Ezekiel was not surprised that, when he looked up from the dossier, Mr Smith was gone.

Ezekiel looked up the hall to the large french doors, to where his team was waiting for him on the other side.  He looked down the other way, peering into the darkness as the unlit hallway stretched back into the gloom.

He looked down at the red dossier in his hands.  He knew what it meant.  It meant traps and snipers and no exit. It meant every weakness analyzed and leveraged.  It meant that as long as the file was active, he was unsafe to be around.

Ezekiel looked at the doors.  Baird would be storming through any second, looking for him.  “Sorry,” Ezekiel muttered.

Fifteen seconds later, the doors banged open.  Even strode down the hall, slowing as she caught sight of Jones’ phone, sitting cold on the side table.

Of its owner, there was no sign.


End file.
